


Absolute Truths

by blushunder (ingthing)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Coitus Interruptus, Cuddling & Snuggling, Edgeplay, Enemas, Food, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hotel Sex, Ice Play, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, LOL (Lots Of Lube), Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Making Out, Marathon Sex, Massage, Masturbation in Shower, Napping, No Condoms, Off-Season, Pampering, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Toys, Switching, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-11-09 19:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingthing/pseuds/blushunder
Summary: Victor books their hotel room in Helsinki for an extra two days after Worlds, but he doesn't intend on sightseeing.Actually, he doesn't plan to leave their room at all.Tags are mostly for later chapters!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I'm entirely ready for all that I have planned for this fic, but I'll be damned if I don't try!
> 
> I've been seeing a lot of marathon sex fics that are pretty intense, so this is my attempt at one the way I think they'd do it- with plenty of cuddle breaks, room service, bath time, and love.
> 
> This is un-beta'd, but enjoy!

There are two absolute truths Victor knows.

The first is that he loves Yuuri Katsuki with all his being.

The second is that he really loves, by extension, Yuuri’s cock.

He’s ecstatic to know he has a monopoly over it; of course, never without his fiancé’s express consent, but it gives Victor such a rush when they’re making love and his body knows Yuuri. He’s molded to fit to him so sweetly.

Like a puzzle with only two pieces.

If they weren’t always so busy with training and the skating season, he would gladly take their metaphorical puzzle and frame it up on the wall above their bed, giving it the love and attention Victor thinks it really deserves.

They’ve been living together in St. Petersburg for months now, yet they’ve only had sex a handful of times— but not for lack of trying. It’s simply too difficult to do anything other than fall into bed and sleep after long days of training and practice, and international travel never fails to thwart the best of his efforts to get intimate. Yuuri requires a three hour nap at minimum after any kind of flight despite napping most of the way, and while this affords Victor the opportunity to admire his sleeping beauty in the waking hours of the day, it also kills any real attempt at intimacy.

Their hard work is rewarded by the podium at Worlds’, placing them just fractions of a point apart. To Victor’s joy, pride, and minor annoyance, Yuuri took gold, closing their first skating season together with a bang. At long last, Victor can kiss the gold medal he and Yuuri sought so fervently, with the promise to outdo each other (and, to the young Yuri Plisetsky’s satisfaction, him as well,) the following season in the Grand Prix.

What a difference a year makes— just a little over three hundred and sixty days, and Victor has found someone and something more valuable than any medal.

He feels it in the proud glimmer in Yuuri’s gaze as they leave the banquet hall, their exhibitions finished, their congratulations accepted, and the champagne they downed humming through their veins as they wobble through the hotel lobby to the elevators that Yuuri is sure will bring them to their hotel room.

They make it up there, somehow, and Victor is glad that he splurged on a suite— the double doors make their room easy to identify, and they click open effortlessly once he manages to jam his keycard into the tiny slot. Yuuri is leaning heavily on Victor, and seeing as, apparently, he’s the most sober one in the hallway, he wraps an arm around Yuuri and helps him into the room, and Yuuri grunts as he’s plopped onto the sofa just off the entryway.

“Victor,” Yuuri pleads, tugging at Victor’s jacket lapels, sounding irresistibly breathless and flushed in a way that’s too reminiscent of the Sochi banquet Yuuri swept Victor off his feet at, “your clothes.” His fingers creep under Victor’s collar and to the unbuttoned top of his shirt, yanking him close so their lips sloppily collide, and Victor’s self control shakes.

To tell the truth, Victor wants nothing more than to tumble down onto the sofa cushions and ravish this beautiful man. To sate the weeks-old ache of desire in his pulse and let their movements be unrefined and haphazard, like the urgent rub of Yuuri’s hips against his thigh right now.

It’s not that Victor wants to deprive Yuuri, or himself, of relief long overdue thanks to their busy careers.

It’s just that Victor’s been planning for the day the season ends for ages, and it would be so much better to bring that plan to fruition than to let it slip away in drunken sex fueled by too much champagne and the odd-tasting canapes set out at the banquet.

No, no matter how Yuuri begs, Victor has a plan, and he intends to see it through. So he wrenches himself away, making Yuuri detach his mouth from the saliva-wet skin of his neck, whining confusedly, and Victor presses scant kisses to Yuuri’s cheek in apology.

“I’m tired, Yuuri,” he lies, letting his shoulders soften and tilting his head with the puppy-like expression Yuuri knows too well on his face. “Tomorrow, I promise.”

“Huh?” Yuuri blinks blearily, furrowing his brow in confusion and squinting at Victor, restless hands coming to a stop on Victor’s forearms. “But you… you said you wanted my dick.”

Victor flushes, needing to pause. He had said that at dinner earlier, hadn’t he? Apparently neither of them have much of a filter once alcohol enters their systems. He sucks in a breath before getting up off of Yuuri and replying, “and I do, _solnyshko_ _[_1] , I always do, but it’s been a long day. Why don’t we have some water and go to bed? It’ll be more fun in the morning.”

Groaning discontentedly, Yuuri looks, wide-eyed, up at Victor through sweat-dampened bangs and his prominent blush. “But I need to...” His voice wobbles as he crosses his legs around Victor’s waist and pulls him down flush to his own body, “I had to think about that all night. Victor, please, please—” and he’s cut off by a gasp, because thank god, Victor has mercy on him and grinds down, dragging a moan from his chest as the need crawling under his skin finally has someplace to collect. He loosens his legs to give Victor’s hand access to his pants, and his fly is undone so quickly Yuuri doesn’t even register how long it takes for Victor’s long fingers to wrap around his erection under the confines of his stained boxer-briefs. It’s not ideal, but it’s hot and raw, and Yuuri grunts with his teeth in Victor’s jacketed shoulder as he comes all over his good dress shirt.

Thankfully, Yuuri seems to go limp against Victor as soon as the edge of his arousal wears off, and Victor can slip out of his embrace. Though Yuuri’s stamina would normally prolong this, it’s considerably weaker when he’s drunk (but not when he’s Sochi banquet-drunk) which means that he’s half asleep already. His sack-of-potatoes state means Victor stumbling to get Yuuri undressed and into bed, but Victor doesn’t mind. He likes taking care of Yuuri— he can take care of himself later. He’s methodical, making sure Yuuri doesn’t spill his bottle of water everywhere as he folds his glasses onto the bedside table and tucks his sweaty, naked fiancé into the sheets. His underwear is stained, after all; Victor wouldn’t want Yuuri to wake up to discomfort.

Well, maybe just not that discomfort.

Victor’s plans could very likely fly out the window if Yuuri happened to wake up with a hard-on, which is why getting him off before bed was absolutely essential. That’s how long it’s been since Victor’s gotten a truly good fuck— long enough that he doesn’t mind waiting an extra couple of hours for one. Victor intends to make up for lost time with the two extra days built into the end of their travel itinerary.

_Sightseeing? I hear Helsinki is quite wet and chilly in March, but very beautiful. Would you like me to look at tours in Helsinki for you?_

Victor had shaken his head with a secretive smile at his travel agent’s remark, and replied that he didn’t think they would be going out very much.

Or at all, in fact. Victor wants to have room service every meal of the day for the next two days, just him and Yuuri. And maybe after they’ve sated their last few months’ worth of sexual tension, they’ll think about going outdoors. Nothing sounds better, now that no immediate obligations loom ahead. No, they deserve this time together, and Victor definitely asked for the room with a king-sized bed for this reason. There’s simply so much he wants to do in the skating off-season, starting with doing Yuuri.

And do Yuuri he will, in the morning and hopefully without a pounding hangover.

He feels awake despite the late hour, like a kid waiting for Christmas morning to come. But the air is chilly, even inside the hotel room, and the sheets and Yuuri are so warm that it’s easy to fall asleep once the exhaustion seeps from his body.

In the morning, he tells himself. There’s no point in staying awake if Yuuri’s asleep.

 

* * *

 

When Victor’s phone buzzes a few short hours later, he slips out of bed quickly, not because he’s totally awake, but because he has plans that require preparation.

Literal preparation.

After a lengthy sit on the toilet, he lets the shower heat up to a decent temperature, feeling goosebumps prickle on his skin in the cold marble tiled room as he rummages in his toiletry bag for the rubber bulb and the small bottle of lube he’d brought. Yuuri scoffs at his taste in lubricants sometimes, but Victor spares no expense on the best.

He’s forgotten that he’ll need something to suck water out of, so he dumps the toothbrushes out of the cup next to the sink and brings it with him into the shower. He would normally use a shower nozzle to clean himself, but when traveling, he’ll have to make do with an enema bulb. Victor only hopes his hand won’t cramp in the process— it’s a tedious process to clean himself, but the payoff is more than worth it. It takes several pumps and a bit of cramping to feel sufficiently filled, and the water finally comes out clear a few full flushes later. Finally— he can get on with the fun part.

The lube is slick and promising between his fingers, and Victor steps under the stream of water before bringing his hand between his cheeks to skirt across sensitive skin.

The slow onset of pleasure eases him back into the rhythm of his motions, and desperation is too hasty a term for it. Desperation would be forcing two fingers in just for the stretch, making his knees knock together and give way and leaving him choking on shower water, cheek against the cool tile. He needs, but isn’t needy… which is an odd thing to think.

In the clarity of this early morning and the weeks leading up to it, Victor feels calm— relaxed, even, as he adds another finger against his hole and makes an ambiguous hum when it enters. The lube helps, and the glide of his fingers is starting to feel good. And then, when he grazes across something inside that sends desire flaring through him like the crash of a tide, he can’t stifle a moan.

Realistically, Yuuri can’t hear. But if Victor raised his voice just a little louder, what would happen, then? Would Yuuri crack the bathroom door open, blinking to adjust to the light, and then shock awake at the sight and sound of him? Would he be hard already? Victor had forgotten to check under the sheets when he slipped out of bed. That’s probably for the better, if he wants to be able to walk and answer the door for room service in a decent state. It’s better this way— Victor preparing himself in secret, like hiding a gift in a closet for Yuuri to discover, except Victor’s stretched cleaned and lubed ass is the gift, and the closet is a hotel bathrobe. Just the thought makes him smile.

The desperation is back, dripping steadily into his gut like coffee, and Victor pulls his hand away and feels himself shudder at the loss.

Before he can reconsider pausing, he dries himself off, does his skincare routine, puts on a robe and brushes his teeth in record time. Brushing his towel-dried hair back, he sits on the mattress beside his fiancé’s bundled up form.

“Yuuri,” he leans in to whisper, “it’s morning. And it’s the first day of off-season!”

Predictably, Yuuri grunts and huddles deeper into the thick covers. Understandable (and adorable,) given the chill in the air and how drunk he’d gotten the previous night, but Victor is persistent. “Won’t you get up and enjoy the morning with me?”

“I’m sleeping in,” Yuuri mumbles, frowning and squinting when Victor pulls the covers down to his cheek.

“It’s already nine-thirty— don’t you want breakfast?” Yuuri doesn’t reply, but Victor knows he’s listening. “I ordered us pancakes.”

Yuuri turns to Victor, pushing the covers down a little bit. “Pancakes…?”

“And an omelette with sausage.” Victor adds, grinning as Yuuri warms up to the idea of getting out of bed, if only for food. He’d love to let Yuuri sleep in till ten, he really would, but room service will arrive soon.

Right on time at 9:45, there’s the ding of the doorbell in the living area of the suite, and Victor nudges Yuuri before rising from the bed and reaching the curtained doorway opposite it. “That must be it. It’ll be outside-” Victor pauses for dramatic effect, “if you decide to join me,” he lilts enticingly, slipping past the drapes to get the door.

He opens it, all smiles, and continues smiling pleasantly as the room service attendant explains their menu choices and sets the table for them, complete with placemats and tea-pouring. Victor signs the receipt with a flourish and tips the attendant before seeing her out the door— and, just as planned, Yuuri emerges from the bedroom, robed and looking dazed with his hair all over the place. His glasses are slightly crooked, and his cheeks are puffy from last night’s alcohol. Victor lights up with an exuberant “good morning” anyway— he loves being able to see Yuuri like this.

“You’re unfair,” Yuuri sighs, sitting down across from him to eye the covered plates. “You’re using my love of food against me.”

“That isn’t such a bad thing, don’t you think?” Victor says, lifting the metal covers off the plates and setting them on the cart the attendant had wheeled in. “You get to have breakfast, and I get to see you up on a weekend before noon. A win-win situation, I’d say.”

“Mm,” Yuuri hums, looking down at the plates of food before them. “What did you get?”

“An omelette with mushroom and pork sausage, pancakes with lingonberry compote and powdered sugar, and some Earl Grey tea.” Victor explains, slicing the omelette in half for them to share and gesturing at its center. “There’s goat cheese in the omelette, I think. Delicious.”

And the first bite _is_ delicious. It feels amazing to indulge after an entire half-season of following stringent skating diets, and Victor sees the gleam in Yuuri’s eye as he decides what to go for first— beyond the occasional pork cutlet bowl after medaling, he’ll have stuck to his skating diet for a little under a year now.

“None of this is in my diet, Victor,” Yuuri mentions, picking up a fork and sliding some food onto his plate.

“I know,” Victor says. “It’s off-season. We can eat nice things again.”

 _Off-season_. The word makes Yuuri smile, like he’d forgotten all about it. Or perhaps he’s smiling because it means there’s an _on_ -season to come. That neither of their skating careers are over, and they’ll be competing together in the Grand Prix in a few short months. The thought of it makes a smile spread across Victor’s face, too. Well, whatever it is that makes Yuuri smile, it makes him to dig into the food with more enthusiasm. They don’t leave much on the plates afterwards, and the tea is finished over discussion of their plans for the summer.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to ask,” Yuuri lifts his head with realization, “we have two more days here, don’t we? What did you want to do?”

Victor tilts his head, resting it on one hand as he puts his teacup down. “Well,” he begins, pausing cryptically with a twinkle in his eye. “I was thinking that we haven’t had much time to ourselves recently, and we haven’t had time to truly appreciate this lovely hotel room.” Victor studies Yuuri’s expression, which is open but confused, before dropping his full intentions. “How would you feel about spending all two of those days here? Just the two of us.”

There’s no doubt that Yuuri can tell what he means, from the way his expression stretches and he sputters on his drink. He puts his cup down, too, and pats his mouth with a napkin before replying. “You… You don’t want to go sight-seeing?”

“The only sight I want to see is you.” Victor declares, laughing as he reaches forward to place his hand on Yuuri’s. He’s being very forward, but he doesn’t think Yuuri’s hating it, from the way his eyes go wide as he gulps. “What do you think?”

Yuuri opens and closes his mouth, like he’s really not sure how to respond. But thankfully, he does, with a shy blush blotchy on his cheeks. “I… That sounds good.”

Victor feels a shiver of excitement race up his spine, and he grins up to his eyes. It’s so _beautiful_ to see Yuuri wanting. “Help me clean this up and roll the cart out to the hall so we won’t have any interruptions,” Victor requests, giving his mouth and hands a last cursory wiping before tossing a napkin onto his soiled plate.

They have the cutlery and china piled up (Yuuri insisting on pushing all the leftover food into the topmost plate before stacking everything in an orderly fashion) on the cart and wheel it over to the entryway. Victor leads from the front, unnecessarily— the cart is made for one, but they take both ends anyway, doing everything together as they normally do, and the cart is rolled out to the side of the hallway where it won’t block any entrances.

“That takes care of that,” Victor notes, leaving the cart to return to Yuuri in the doorway. “Now we can enjoy ourselves.”

And Victor’s _enjoying himself_ much sooner than he thinks he will, because as soon as the door is half-shut behind them, Yuuri has him pressed up against it, one hand wrapped in Victor’s robe collar as he comes close enough for Victor to feel his breath. Yuuri’s eyes hold a playful glint to them, even shadowed behind his glasses, and a smile plays on his lips as he gives his dumbstruck fiancé a quick kiss and leans close to his ear.

“No interruptions, right?” He asks, in a tone far too innocent for his actions. “Lock the door, _Vitya_ [2]”

Victor fumbles for the lock behind him, hearing it latch closed and feeling his heartbeat quicken.

Oh, he’s never going to forget _this_ weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Victor gets what he prepared for.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> FOOTNOTES
> 
>  
> 
> 1Солнышко, _Solnyshko_ : Little sun, a nickname for loved ones.[return to text]
> 
> 2Витя, _Vitya_ : A shortened form of Виктор/Victor.[return to text]


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor gets what he prepared for, and a bathtub interlude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two... so.... darn much???
> 
> This might be softer than what you guys expected, but I hope you like it all the same!
> 
> Enjoy!

Unfamiliar enough with the room’s layout that his feet don’t know where to go, Victor lets Yuuri lead, and it’s exhilarating. Like the first rush of wind when gliding out on an unmarked rink— not a new feeling by any means, but bracing and sharp all the same. And like he places his trust in the ice, he trusts Yuuri now, letting his steps go wherever he’s taken as long as Yuuri doesn’t stop his hands or mouth or _anything_. 

The sides of his robe slip off his shoulders but don’t go far as he tugs Yuuri in with arms around his neck, securing their lips together and closing his eyes to the warmth. Yuuri’s the oasis to his desert, the blade to his skates, and he feels Yuuri’s lips forcing his thoughts higher and higher till they’re out of his head, evaporated into clouds in the atmosphere, because _this is just the beginning_ and already Victor wants to stop them dead in their tracks and get on the sofa instead. But the upholstery would be a pain to clean, and he’s so totally at Yuuri’s mercy that they’ve already reached the bedroom doorway before he can even suggest it. 

And when his back hits the mattress, Victor’s patience is gone. It’s been there too long— he had to let it go. 

Yuuri works on the tie of Victor’s robe as his fiancé clamps his legs around his midriff, pressing up demandingly and making needy noises into the join of their tongues that sound suspiciously like Yuuri’s name. God, it’s unfair that Victor is so _hot,_ both figuratively and literally. His face is flushed all over and the robe finally comes undone, splaying out to the sides and revealing that the blush keeps going— and even in the dark, it’s apparent that Victor is wanting, from the way he mouths wetly along Yuuri’s neck and draws the sides of his robe apart to slide his hands down and undo it fully. It’s easy, the garment falling away to the floor as Victor pulls him down and grinds his ass into Yuuri’s half-hard erection. He loses a breath as the motion presses his own cock to Yuuri’s belly, and he compensates for it by stealing Yuuri’s breath, taking his mouth hungrily. He breaks away with glossy eyes.

“I need you, Yuuri,” Victor blurts, frowning when Yuuri does nothing but look back at him, both hands at Victor’s sides in an attempt to support them both. “Please, _inside._ ”

“H-hold on,” Yuuri chokes, trying to regain some sense of mind and leaning away a little, to Victor’s annoyance. “What about prepping? Did you-”

“Earlier, in the shower.” Victor answers hastily. He unhooks his legs from behind Yuuri’s back as he guides Yuuri’s hand to his ass, gasping softly as the pads of his fingers press against him. “Don’t make me wait, _please_.”

Yuuri sucks in a breath. “The lube?” 

Victor blanches, biting his lip when he remembers where it is. Why does Yuuri have to be coherent _now?_ His hesitation tells Yuuri everything he needs to know. “I used _plenty_ when I showered,” Victor insists instead of telling Yuuri where it is, “it’ll be enough.”

“So it’s in the shower?” Yuuri raises an eyebrow with a smile, already detaching himself from Victor’s embrace. “I’ll get it; I need to wash my hands anyway.” 

A long, displeased groan is his only reply, and Yuuri pretends he doesn’t hear as he throws the discarded robe onto the nearby dresser before going into the bathroom. The lube is easy to locate— the travel bottle has been left uncapped on the inset shower shelf; Victor gets sloppy when he’s in a hurry— and he takes it with him to the sink. For the first time that morning, he looks at himself properly in the mirror, and grimaces at the sight as he lathers up his hands. _Forget washing my hands, I need a shower,_ Yuuri thinks, looking back down to his hands as he wipes them on the towel hanging nearby. Victor didn’t seem to have any complaints about his appearance, though, so maybe he can get away with showering later.

“You said you’d be right back,” Victor whines jokingly as Yuuri reenters the bedroom; he’s scooted up against the pillows and headboard and laid the bathrobe out underneath himself, reclined on his side seductively. Yuuri can’t help but give an amused snort as he joins Victor on the bed. 

“If you didn’t leave the lube in the shower, you wouldn’t have had to wait.”

“Ah, but then, you’d still leave me all by myself to wash your hands.” Victor points out, rolling onto his back and reaching out to hug Yuuri close again. 

“Sorry, I should have left all that powdered sugar on.” Yuuri quips sarcastically, making Victor laugh. “Maybe I should have licked it off instead.”

“I’m sure your tongue can be put to much better use.” Victor replies, moving his hands down to Yuuri’s ass now that he’s close enough. He loves the feel of it in his palms and the way Yuuri tenses when he squeezes. 

_He wants to be rimmed…?_ “I thought you wanted me inside you.” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Victor snaps, “So just-” he cuts off with a surprised breath, feeling the pressure of Yuuri’s fingers skimming down from his balls, but it’s not as cold as it could be. The pressure leaves, making Victor hum confusedly, but it returns moments later, slicker. So Yuuri has used warm water from the faucet, and he’d warmed the lube, too— Victor only sinks deeper into the mattress at the extra care, humming contentedly as Yuuri rubs circles around his rim. 

Yuuri rests one finger on it before leaning forward and pressing in, and Victor rocks back into it with a discontented moan. “Does it feel okay?” Yuuri asks, gulping at how easy it is to slip inside. Victor really had prepared himself thoroughly. 

“Yes, Yuuri, _yes_ \- I used three fingers, you don’t _need_ to stretch me.” Victor babbles, desperate with the feeling of something finally inside him. “Just _fuck me_ , already.”

Yuuri feels himself throb at Victor’s plea, but although the offer is tempting, he feels like doing a _very_ good job today. “Mm, I don’t know about that,” he teases, wiggling his finger around just enough to make Victor squirm. “I think I’d better finger you some more.” 

Victor tries to protest as Yuuri pulls his finger out and returns with two, making Victor choke and jerk his hips. “ _Yuuri_ , it’s been too long, _please_ ,” he gasps, though he doesn’t fight any of it. Not the too-sweet caresses of Yuuri’s free hand along his torso that always seem to avoid his erection, nor the heat of his mouth on his chest, nor the steady, maddening rub of fingers inside him— they’ve done this before, this kind of drawn-out play, and Victor knows it’s going to drive him insane. His hands shake on Yuuri’s thighs as he stares down at Yuuri in uncertainty, and the other man leans close to study Victor’s expression. 

“Too much?” Yuuri asks worriedly, pausing his hands and brushing Victor’s bangs back. 

“I just _want you_ ,” Victor admits, latching his fingers behind Yuuri’s neck and smiling reassuringly. This could be fun, but maybe after round one. “Edge me later.” 

And that’s all it takes for Yuuri to nod deeply, flushing harder as he kisses Victor apologetically and takes his fingers away. He warns that he’s still going to work some lube deeper— just to make it smoother— and Victor noses at Yuuri’s cheek in assent. He trusts Yuuri completely.

When the brush of fingers past his prostate pulls a groan from his throat, Yuuri pulls out, and the distinct press of the head of his cock- _finally_ \- at his entrance makes Victor’s breaths erratic. The initial push and stretch of Yuuri working his hips to rest deeper is _sublime_. God, how had he gone without this for the past months? He makes a punched-out noise as Yuuri is sheathed to the hilt inside him, Victor’s knees by his chest and his mouth dropped open. 

Nothing can compare to this feeling of Yuuri on him, around him, _in_ him, and it’s so right and real that Victor is almost glad that Yuuri’s come to a pause to let him adjust— he could probably come right then and there, if not for the lack of friction.

Has he ever told Yuuri just how much he loves his cock? 

“Um, you might have told me, once or twice.” Yuuri mutters embarrassedly, still adjusting, himself, and Victor doesn’t even care that he said that aloud, because it’s absolutely true. 

“Good,” Victor laughs, looking up into Yuuri’s eyes— _dark, intoxicating, but distinctly Yuuri_ — and he tugs him down for a good kiss. He pulls away with a coy smile and looks up through his eyelashes. “Make me remember why?”

“I will,” Yuuri nods curtly and _smiles_ in response, equal parts determined and loving, and he takes Victor’s hips, pulls back, and pushes in slow; the drag is teasing, and Victor moves his hands to grip at Yuuri’s arms. 

“ _Oh,_ ” Victor gasps, and though the feeling is heavenly, his focus hones in on _that smile_. Comfortable, confident, _sexy_. He’d do anything to keep it there, as long as it doesn’t involve stopping this— the glide of Yuuri inside him that knocks the air out of his lungs, making intelligible thought distant to reach. He doesn’t _want_ to reach it, praise and pleas pouring from his lips as each perfect thrust pushes him to the brink. 

As liberating as it feels to let all pretense go, there’s the press of Yuuri’s forehead against his chest, the ebb and flow of their breaths, their hands all over each other, and while _letting go_ in itself is solitary, Victor’s never felt less alone. 

Yuuri fucks him so well, hooking his elbows under Victor’s knees and putting his hands on the mattress to anchor them both as the angle changes and Victor’s breath goes high and erratic. Yuuri’s deep in him, relentlessly winding every muscle in his body up and hitting him _there, there, oh god, right there—_ as Victor moans and moves in counterpoint, making the impact mind-shattering.

And then his mind _truly_ shatters, making him coil into Yuuri and clench down with shaking thighs as he comes unglued, panting into his love’s neck as his release drips down between their bodies. Even exhausted, Victor holds onto Yuuri tight, murmuring for him to keep going, to hold nothing back, to come for him, and he does moments later, and Victor grins weakly at the guttural groan that he hears as he feels Yuuri climax inside him.

“ _Perfect_ ,” Victor croaks when he can speak again, letting Yuuri rest heavily on his chest and lazily dragging his fingers up Yuuri’s sweaty back. He feels spent, but _good_ spent— like he’s rediscovered his body after forgetting, or more accurately, being unfairly deprived of how amazing sex with Yuuri feels. He gains a muffled grunt in reply.

“Great way to start the day,” Yuuri says throatily when _he_ can speak again, and Victor agrees heartily, tugging him up to exchange languid, ecstatic kisses and smile against Yuuri’s mouth. Two whole days spent like this? Victor thinks he might have to be dragged kicking and screaming to late checkout if this is how the next forty-eight hours might feel.

“I love having you at _any_ time of the day,” Victor murmurs, stroking Yuuri’s matted hair back as Yuuri pushes himself up on his elbows, “but could you pull out? It’s…” There’s just enough space for him to gesture between them, and Yuuri flushes in embarrassment as he pulls out of Victor. 

“ _Victor,_ ” Yuuri chokes, staring at Victor’s ass with wide eyes— and for good reason, because they don’t use condoms and there’s _definitely_ something warm and wet leaking out of him. “I… You… _Ugh_.” He buries his face in Victor’s shoulder, making the older man burst out laughing. How like Yuuri to be embarrassed even after all they’ve done. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Victor teases, and Yuuri looks up at him with a put-out expression.

“I- yeah. You… You’re already sexy, so seeing my cum _coming out of you_ is like…” Yuuri doesn’t finish his sentence, but Victor knows exactly what he means. 

“I love it.” He admits, sliding his hands up to pull Yuuri down for a peck. “I like having you in me, even when you’re not _in_ me.” 

Yuuri groans, making Victor laugh again.

But, Victor wonders after they lapse into comfortable silence, they’re not _done_ yet. They have a lot of time left in the day, and they can do anything they want. _Anything_.

“Yuuri,” Victor begins lightly, palms rested on the small of his fiancé’s back, “How about this, for today?” Yuuri looks up a little bit from his headrest on Victor’s chest, curious. Having caught his attention, Victor makes eye contact. “Why don’t we go and have a bath? And then, if you’re feeling up to it, then I’d love to fuck you. Fill you up the way you’ve filled me.” 

The use of the curse is intentional, of course— Victor’s well aware of the effect his voice has on Yuuri— and Yuuri looks so aroused by the idea, licking his lips subconsciously, that Victor almost flips their positions right then and there. 

“I’ll need a shower first,” Yuuri says, voice tight like he wishes it weren’t so. The meaning is implicit— while Victor had cleaned himself thoroughly that morning, Yuuri isn’t really prepared.

“I figured- but we have all the time in the world. After you do, call for me and let’s have a bath together.” Victor requests, kissing Yuuri on the cheek. He has to grin at the way Yuuri clambers off the bed to get to the bathroom; Victor is just as enthusiastic.

He now has the chance to treat Yuuri the way he always wants to— in their day to day, of course, he still dotes on Yuuri, but time had always been at the back of their minds. Now, with hours and hours at their disposal, they’re genuinely free to fool around and do whatever they want to and with each other. He wants it to be utter bliss.

His own desires withstanding, Yuuri deserves to let loose. They both do, but Yuuri, especially. He’d worked so hard to triumph over Victor at Worlds’, and it showed. Yuuri would have been very justified if, following the banquet, he had wanted to nap all day and laze around. But Victor is so, so glad that they’re doing _this_ instead, and that their needs align after all.

Truth be told, there’s still a whisper of doubt that Yuuri might shy away if Victor overwhelms him. Victor has been told that he tends to get his hopes up— but his consecutive gold medals never taught him that lesson as thoroughly as being with Yuuri has. Once he’s wiped most (but definitely not all) of Yuuri’s release from his ass, he manages to get up and place a few water bottles from the in-suite pantry at their bedsides, fishes extra towels from the closet to cover the bedsheets anew, and puts everything at a convenient arms’ length away from the mattress. He doesn’t want to part from Yuuri for a second— he wouldn’t want to inflict that torturous bathroom break Yuuri took on him, even if Victor might be justified in doing so.

The bath will be a good way for them both to clean off, considering Yuuri didn’t shower last night and they’re both sweaty and messy from their earlier session. But more than cleanliness, it’s the relaxation soaking in a hot bath will bring that Victor wants. A hotel bathtub won’t be anywhere as soothing as the _Yu-topia_ springs back home, but it will suffice. Besides, there are things Victor wants to do in the bath that they just can’t do out in the open. 

A little while of scrolling on his phone and keeping his ears pricked for any noise from the bathroom later, Yuuri calls for Victor, and he’s off the bed instantly.

Yuuri is watching the bathtub fill up when Victor peeks in cutely, smiling like he didn’t just trip over his own feet right outside the door. Just like that, Yuuri sends him a pointed look, letting Victor know he _definitely_ heard him stumble. 

“Don’t tell me you slipped, fell, and broke your dick,” Yuuri deadpans, though visibly trying not to smile. 

“Sorry, love. Your ride will have to wait.” Victor replies in mock sadness, grinning and stepping forward to wrap his shower-fresh fiancé in a hug as the other man laughs. They kiss a few times, Victor brushing Yuuri’s damp hair back. The bath is slow to fill, and Yuuri side-eyes it before breaking away. 

“Check the bath water? I hope you don’t mind it a little hot.” Yuuri asks. 

Victor sticks his hand into the water, bending over the edge of the tub to make sure the temperature is even all the way through. “It’s perfect,” he approves, shaking his hand off before leaving Yuuri to rummage through his toiletry bag. Yuuri watches curiously, and his brows raise with surprise when Victor comes back to the tub tearing open a foil packet with a Japanese folk illustration on it.

“We don’t have the _onsen_ here,” Victor explains, knowing Yuuri wants answers, “so I got some bath salts from the Fukuoka airport! I thought it would be relaxing.” He sprinkles the light blue salts into the water, sticking his arm in and mixing the water around so the salts dissolve. The distinct mineral smell of the hot spring back home fills the air, and Yuuri smiles— it’s a good idea.

Victor takes a small towel with him into the tub and sits with his legs parted, an invitation that Yuuri takes as he sits between them. The tub itself is spacious, large enough for Victor’s legs to splay out and for Yuuri to sit comfortably— but first Yuuri reaches forward to turn the water off, so they don’t slosh it all over the place.

Leaning back into Victor’s embrace is easy; a practiced motion that Yuuri does whenever they’re cuddling before bed or watching something together. Baths waste water, and they usually take showers in St. Petersburg, but when they do have them, together is the best way to do it. 

“Close your eyes, Yuuri,” Victor says, holding Yuuri around his torso with one hand as he soaks the washcloth with his other. After taking the lead earlier, Yuuri hums and leans his head back on Victor’s shoulder— he’s content to sit and let Victor lead him. The heat of the water comes up to his collarbones and runs down the top of his chest— the texture of towel comes and goes, bringing with it warmth. There are slow breaths by Yuuri’s ear and the slight rise and fall of Victor’s chest behind him; it’s real and rhythmic, quickly lulling Yuuri into a serene state. In the excitement of sex and the idea of being penetrated later, he’d forgotten how easily sex could overwhelm him, and how he might have ended up too tired to enjoy any more. He sometimes forgets his limits, but Victor seems to know how to protect him from surpassing them.

The towel ventures lower, Victor humming reassuringly as he pulls the cloth along Yuuri’s arms, lifting them slowly to ease Yuuri into the changes. His motions continue this way, re-dipping into the water occasionally as Victor glides the towel down every reachable inch of his torso. Yuuri’s chest above the bathwater has cooled in the air, so the return of the washcloth to it elicits a warm rumble from his chest, the touch over his nipples more sensitive than before. 

“That’s it, let me take care of you,” Victor murmurs. The washcloth continues upward, Victor’s arm crossing under Yuuri’s to slide the towel up and over his shoulders. He repeats the motion with Yuuri’s other shoulder, re-soaking the cloth before bringing it up to warm Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri tilts his head up for it, allowing Victor access to the length of it, and it feels like Victor is smiling behind him— Yuuri can recognize the way his exhale changes when he does. Victor always seems happy when he’s doing things for Yuuri, and while Yuuri likes doing things for Victor, too, he also likes being taken care of like this; he trusts Victor to take care of him.

Though the bath has been comforting so far, there’s something in the way that Victor moves— the way his hands linger on Yuuri’s most sensitive spots, the way his lips rub gently just behind Yuuri’s ear, and how hot and sturdy his chest is pressed against Yuuri’s back. The towel must be abandoned and floating in the water somewhere, because this touch is unmistakably just Victor’s, and it makes Yuuri shiver. 

“Yuuri,” Victor says, awakening Yuuri from his near-trance, “will you face me?” 

The answer, of course, is yes, and Yuuri turns himself around in Victor’s lap, feeling that his legs are very much there and that they can, in fact, move. 

As soon as he faces Victor, the man breaks out into a fond smile, his hands coming up to cup Yuuri’s face as he presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “Hi,” Victor greets, brushing a stray droplet from Yuuri’s brow, “how are you feeling?”

“Good,” Yuuri answers, letting Victor squish his cheeks in his palms. “Really relaxed.”

“Good,” Victor repeats after him, nodding and sliding his hands to the bottom of Yuuri’s nape to massage at the tight muscles there. “I love pampering you. I didn’t know if you could tell.”

“I couldn’t tell at all.” Yuuri denies jokingly, rolling his shoulders back into Victor’s firm hands.

“Really, now?” Victor follows along. “I’ll just have to show you some more.” 

Yuuri wraps his arms around Victor’s neck as Victor cranes his head forward to kiss, and it’s hot and deep, like the bathwater warmed Victor through too, and his lips taste just a little of the minerals in the bath salt— maybe the remnants of an errant splash. It makes Yuuri wonder if this is what Victor would taste like in the _onsen_ , too, but he much prefers the intimacy of the current moment. Cradled together in the tub, water lapping up around their sides, with just enough space to get their hands around each other, to drink their fill and then some.

Victor’s hands don’t stop at his nape. They travel to the tightness in his shoulders, then down the sides of his spine, to the knots just above the swell of Yuuri’s buttocks to the plush muscles themselves, kneading mercilessly, just the way Yuuri likes it when Victor grabs his ass. Yuuri slides his legs down to rest against Victor more fully, every massaging motion pulling him flush with Victor’s own crotch and the erection that lies between his open thighs. Yuuri’s hard now too, and the water is starting to cool. Their lips are red and slick when they part, and pretty blushes are painted on their cheeks.

“Let’s rinse off,” Victor suggests, beginning to shift out of the water. Yuuri nods and gets up on shaky legs, holding the handle at the side of the bathtub for leverage as he steps out. The plug is drawn out, and Victor forgets all about the towel floating pitifully in the draining tub when Yuuri turns on the shower and waits for him. He casts a look over his shoulder as he steps under the shower stream, which is still somehow warm from his shower earlier.

As soon as they’ve finished their cursory rinsing and towelling, Yuuri falls onto the bed, hair sticking out all over the place, and Victor follows him down.

Victor props himself up over Yuuri, staring down at him in the dim light with a smile playing at his lips.

He brings a hand up to caress Yuuri’s cheek, a move that makes Yuuri’s breath stop combined with his complex gaze. _Oh,_ he thinks, feeling his pulse jump.

“Now, my Yuuri,” Victor asks, pausing and smiling softly, “how would you like me to fuck you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Yuuri's turn!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their bath, Yuuri lets Victor know what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we're still on a soft streak~
> 
> Sorry this took so long- I really wanted to get it right!
> 
> Thanks to Sachi for betaing a lot of this (over and over) for me!
> 
> Enjoy!

The question catches Yuuri off guard, although it’s not unexpected. 

_How would he like to be fucked?_ As soon as possible, really— or, that would have been his answer before the bath. 

He’s heated to the core by more than just the water. It’s like he’s being cocooned, cradled by the sheets underneath them and sheltered inside the span of Victor’s arms. 

To say he’s aroused is an understatement. Yuuri feels like his body is new, like every nerve is bathed in the warmth and the pleasure is thrumming through his body like the heat of the sun. That’s what Victor calls him—little sun, _solnyshko—_ and never has Yuuri felt more like one in Victor’s embrace, hot and unworldly and atmospheric.

But with this warmth comes stunning clarity and, though the curtains are still drawn, Victor is distinct and clear-cut above him. Yet, somehow, Victor is soft, patiently awaiting an answer with a gaze that tells Yuuri that whatever he wants, Victor wants too.

“Slow,” Yuuri replies, taking a shaky breath, “but hard. Like we did on our last night in Barcelona.” 

“You really liked that, didn’t you?” Victor murmurs, promise laden in his voice as he rests on his side next to Yuuri with an arm draped over his chest. “Face to face, deep and long. Perfect for me to take you apart.”

“I like kissing,” Yuuri admits softly, turning over to return the hug, “and, I mean, you already did. Take me apart, I mean.” His reply makes Victor smile dazzlingly, and Yuuri accepts a good, lingering kiss before Victor pulls away. 

“I’ll do better than that,” Victor says playfully, shifting his hand lower to squeeze Yuuri’s ass. “You’ll feel so good, you’ll wish it’d never end.” 

“I can’t do that if we don’t _start_ ,” Yuuri points out. Victor concedes his point by wrapping his other arm around Yuuri’s waist, pulling him in as he cups Yuuri’s cheek and guides him to meet his lips. 

Yuuri arches into Victor beautifully, hooked in by Victor’s hands but melting into him like it’s second nature. Yuuri is used to trusting Victor as a coach, a best friend, his fiancé— but how often has he given himself up like this, when his trust exceeds any discernible title or relationship status? He leans into Victor’s chest as a thigh slips between his own, gasping with the slide of Victor’s fingers down from his cheek to his chest, and Victor thumbs at one nipple. All Yuuri can do is shift his hips, thighs tight around Victor’s as the heats of their mouths become indistinguishable. They love to be connected like this, and breathing becomes a nuisance when it forces them to break their kisses. 

But breathing provides Victor the opportunity to explore— he loves kissing Yuuri, of course, but there’s more that can be done. 

Victor follows as Yuuri turns to lie fully on his back. Lips gliding easily down Yuuri’s jaw to his neck, Victor can feel Yuuri’s pulse jump under his touch. Under the flat of his tongue, Yuuri’s skin has a soft give to it, bath-fresh and enticing; Victor intends to savor all of him. Victor listens for every blissed sigh and gratified breath, feeling his own mouth turn up at the soft caress of Yuuri’s fingers through his hair. He loves the tickle-induced jump of Yuuri’s belly when he grazes the sensitive spot under Yuuri’s ribs. 

As Victor roams his torso, Yuuri looks like he’s struggling to keep his eyes open; Victor can understand not wanting to miss a thing. He looks up occasionally, fixating on the sheer beauty of Yuuri’s relaxed expression. As Victor licks into the dip of his navel, Yuuri’s eyes flutter shut with a quiet moan. Victor loves Yuuri’s dark eyelashes; if he weren’t currently occupied with Yuuri’s midriff, he’d lean up and kiss every single one— maybe he can do that later.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, more to catch his fiancé’s attention than out of desperation. 

“Yes, darling?” Victor inquires, words muffled against Yuuri’s hip as he meets Yuuri’s gaze. There’s definitely heat there— a sign. Rubbing his palm up Yuuri’s stomach, Victor lifts his head, Yuuri’s hand moving with him. “Is there something you want?”

“Can you rim me?” Yuuri asks flat-out, making Victor smile dazzlingly. There’s none of the hesitation or embarrassment that came with the first time Yuuri made this request ages ago: a fact Victor adores. 

“I could. Would you let me?”

“Mm…” Yuuri hums, to Victor’s confusion. “I don’t know. Didn’t you _just_ eat?”

Victor’s only perplexed for a heartbeat before he grins in understanding. “Don’t worry, love. Eating your ass is an essential part of _my_ diet.”

Yuuri bursts out laughing as Victor lifts his legs and presses them in, folding Yuuri in half as he moves in to swallow that laughter with his mouth. Yuuri makes an urgent noise, his chuckle dying as Victor’s body brushes against his erection. 

“Hold onto your legs for me.” Victor requests when he breaks the kiss, and Yuuri wraps his fingers behind his knees as Victor drags his hands down the backs of Yuuri’s thighs. It gives him time to admire the view— Yuuri, blushing up at him, reddened lips parted slightly with anticipating breaths. Yuuri is holding himself open and vulnerable, completely trusting in Victor. He’s gorgeous, and Victor tells him so, watching with overwhelming fondness as Yuuri beams with the compliment. 

Yuuri knows “gorgeous” means so much more than just that— it means Victor finds him beautiful, astonishing, awe-inspiring, matchless— that Victor loves him in ways mere words can never hope to express. So Victor takes his time and slowly leafs through his vocabulary, never lost for words to describe Yuuri. 

They have all the time in the world to get through them, and Yuuri intends to be there for every last one.

His heart swells as Victor peppers kisses down the inside of his thigh, cheek nudging his length and making him shudder. Just to tease, as he loves to, Victor mouths at the underside of Yuuri’s cock and Yuuri clutches onto his legs, closing his eyes to the sensation with a hitched breath. 

Victor takes his mouth away and licks a long stripe up from Yuuri’s entrance. Rimming, while not previously on Yuuri’s list of top favorite sex acts, had been added fairly recently and just the memory of how good it had felt is enough to make him hum impatiently. Yuuri’s back is protesting, and he tries to hold himself off the mattress even as he starts shaking with exertion. Of course, Victor notices his discomfort and lowers Yuuri gently so he’s flat on the sheets. 

“Let’s get a pillow under you.” Victor laughs, leaning over Yuuri to grab one. It’s folded before Victor wedges it under, and Yuuri’s legs effortlessly return to the sides of his head. Yuuri is a little embarrassed, but in his defense he’d topped vigorously earlier that morning.

Victor shuffles down the bed to a more comfortable position, getting on all fours so he can put his elbows on the sheets and support himself. He peeks over the curve of Yuuri’s crotch to admire his expression, which is caught between impatience and desire. Victor smiles, placing his hands on the swell of Yuuri’s ass and brushing a thumb over his hole. 

The first broad sweep of his tongue has Yuuri exhaling softly and fisting his hands into the pliable cushion under his head. It’s remarkable how he relaxes into it, the tension dissolving instantly from his muscles as he feels the wet touch. Moments ago, Victor’s tongue felt hot in his mouth— now, against his heated skin, it feels cool. Yuuri feels a pulse of arousal in his groin at the sight of Victor between his legs, looking up at him eagerly as though he needs further confirmation that Yuuri wants this. As if Yuuri’s frustrated look and heaving chest aren’t enough indication.

Victor dips his head and kisses the delicate skin above Yuuri’s entrance promisingly. He gasps brokenly as Victor presses his tongue to it and begins to move. 

Yuuri is incredibly responsive. There’s something different about it: the way he’s content to sit there and receive rather than rolling his hips back into the swipes of Victor’s tongue, or the way his moans sound more blissed than demanding. There’s still an edge of desperation there— a fact Victor’s well aware of with the way Yuuri’s erection throbs within his line of sight— but it’s unhurried. Yuuri’s _indulging_ in the sensation, and it makes Victor devastatingly happy. He’ll work hard to keep things this way.

As soon as Victor points his tongue and prods at Yuuri’s rim, Yuuri relaxes for him, mouth dropping open with a grateful sound as Victor cranes his head forward to sink inside. He pulls out to the very edge, breathing in through his nose before going deeper. The unfurling of his breath across Yuuri’s perineum feels almost cold against the heat of him as Victor rocks his head forward.

“Victor— _ah_ , that feels good.” Yuuri sighs, letting his thighs drop apart more as his fiancé draws back to suck around his hole. The wet noises are sharp in Yuuri’s ears, forcing his focus to stay on their origin, though he doesn’t exactly need a reminder. Not when it’s Victor who has his mouth on him, the only possible source of the sweet pleasure that tingles through him with every slick rub.

Victor pushes the tip of his index finger against Yuuri’s entrance, groaning in awe when it slips in effortlessly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, considering Yuuri cleaned himself in the shower and Victor’s tongue went in so easily, but this is a sight he will never get used to. Yuuri pushes back when Victor pauses at his second knuckle to unsuccessfully calm his pounding heart. As hard as he tries, Victor can’t avoid the surge of arousal he feels when, pushing in deep and pressing towards Yuuri’s navel on withdrawal, Yuuri jerks his hips up and knits his brows together, gulping for air.

“So sensitive, _Yuuri_.” Victor purrs lowly— it’s quiet, but not enough for his fiancé to miss. “I love you like this.” 

Without fail, Yuuri always smiles uncontrollably whenever Victor compliments him. Sometimes, Yuuri’s smile is bold, confidence filling his chest and making him stand taller. At other times, it’s soft and content, Victor’s words dissipating the tension plaguing his back and shoulders. 

This time, Yuuri smiles _radiantly_ , mahogany eyes so breathtaking and earnest that he looks heaven-sent. He might as well be; Victor will praise whatever force brought Yuuri to him for an eternity.

Victor lowers his mouth to Yuuri’s ass again, determined to show even more of his appreciation. He works his finger in and out alongside his tongue, varying the strokes and pace till Yuuri’s panting. His breath hitches as Victor adds a second finger, scissoring both wide. When he licks between them to tease the stretched rim, Yuuri’s head drops back with a soft cry. 

When Victor’s jaw begins to ache and Yuuri seems to have melted sufficiently into the mattress, Victor pulls the intrusion out. He wipes his fingers on the towel underneath them and smoothes his other hand along Yuuri’s thigh. 

“How was that?” Victor asks, sliding the pillow out from under Yuuri and moving up to peer at his face. Yuuri just groans in response, earning him a delighted grin. Victor’s lips are red, slick, and a little swollen from friction— he knows _exactly_ how “that” was. So Yuuri pulls his fiancé down to kiss his cheek before, as he always does after eating Yuuri out, Victor pads off to the bathroom to use some mouthwash.

Yuuri rolls onto his side to watch the shift of Victor’s muscles as he walks and Yuuri can’t help but sigh contentedly. He never expected their day to go this way, but he has no complaints at all. It really has been too long since they’ve had so much time to themselves.

Glancing towards the nearest side table, Yuuri notices the bottles placed conveniently but precariously at the edge of the surface. He reaches out to push them to a safer position and hesitates as his fingers come in contact with the squeeze bottle of lube. 

Though he’s probably still pretty wet from just Victor’s saliva, he’ll need to be slicker for more penetration.

Yuuri relishes Victor’s gasp when he returns and finds Yuuri with one hand threaded between his legs, the lube bottle lying by his side and not on the nightstand where Victor left it. 

“ _Yuuri.”_ Victor says in awe, clambering onto the mattress after having stopped in his tracks at the sight of Yuuri fingering himself. Victor’s mouth is minty fresh as it latches onto Yuuri’s, and Yuuri grins into the kiss, pleased that he surprised Victor. 

“You were taking too long gargling.” Yuuri teases, pulling his fingers out as Victor leans back to look at him. Yuuri only put two fingers in— it feels better when they’re Victor’s, and Yuuri takes his fiancé’s wrist with his messy hand, guiding Victor’s hand underneath his balls. “Help me out?”

“Put your leg over me so I can prepare you.” Victor agrees, a wholehearted smile gracing his features as he settles on his side next to his fiancé. Yuuri looks up to pull a pillow down from the headrest, and Victor takes the cue easily, lifting his head so it can slide under to support their necks. Yuuri brings his thigh up to rest on Victor’s hip, and Yuuri’s outer arm falls over Victor’s neck to keep him close. They haven’t kissed enough this morning, and this position is perfect for it. 

Before they kiss, Victor watches for any sign of discomfort as he pushes his fingers into Yuuri, but finds that he’s just as relaxed as before. The soft exhale Yuuri makes as Victor withdraws and returns with three fingers tells him how welcome the insertion is, and the press of Yuuri’s erection against his own sends a fresh pulse of pleasure through Victor. 

Victor hums as Yuuri licks languidly into the willing warmth of Victor’s mouth. The hungry moan that rises from Victor’s throat bleeds into the join of their lips from deep in his stomach, and he loves Yuuri’s answering noise. It tastes tender and warm, the way only Yuuri can to Victor’s tongue, but with the added gravity of need— Yuuri is more than ready for him.

Victor slips his fingers out from Yuuri’s entrance, reaching for the lube to slick himself up. Hooking his slippery hand under his fiancé’s leg by his hip to guide it up and above his shoulder, Victor listens to Yuuri’s exhale— it doesn’t sound as though the stretch is causing any pain. 

Managing a quick peck before bringing a hand down to guide himself between Yuuri’s buttocks, Victor glides his hardness between them to tease. Yuuri makes a discontented noise that dissolves into a sigh at the nudge of the tip at his rim. 

“I want it,” Yuuri breathes, anchoring his hands to Victor’s sides and pulling a little, just above his waist. “Victor, please, Vic— _oh..._ ” Yuuri gasps, open-mouthed as Victor presses his hips upward to slide the head of his cock into Yuuri. 

Yuuri’s explicit consent is the second most erotic thing Victor has ever been faced with. The first is Yuuri himself; with his eyes half-lidded and lush lips so tempting to kiss, the fact has never been more apparent.

Victor shudders, exhaling shakily as he enters with little resistance, and Yuuri actually _smiles_ when he feels that Victor is completely sheathed, hips flush against Yuuri’s ass. There’s nothing for Victor to do but bring his hand up and cradle the back of Yuuri’s head so that he can kiss Yuuri as he begins to move. 

Yuuri, Victor knows, loves when Victor pulls out almost all the way and then drives back inside in a single stroke, loves the lingering grind when he rolls his hips just that little bit deeper. The feeling of being inside his fiancé is, as always, indescribable; it’s hot and tight and like nothing else. It strips Victor of any emotion beyond sheer reverence. Yuuri is living, breathing, and beautiful, from the red tinge of his cheeks to the stickiness of sweat on the underside of the thigh hiked over Victor’s chest. Folded into that deep stretch, Yuuri must be able to feel Victor shivering with the strain of slowing on withdrawal. Yuuri ducks his face into Victor’s neck and quietly moans as he grazes Yuuri’s prostate.

Beyond the incredible feeling of Victor inside him, it’s the totality of them, together, that strikes hard and resonates through Yuuri’s body. Together is such a good word for this— the way every point of contact makes their bodies just as indistinguishable as the tenderness that seems to flow between them. Victor sets what feels like Yuuri’s every nerve alight with his hands and lips and cock, devotion punctuating every action and occupying all of Yuuri. It’s languid, intense, and overpowering— yet it never feels like too much, like Yuuri’s heart keeps drinking in it endlessly.

He’s through every grind of Victor’s hips, unhurried but striking deep to make Yuuri ache with sensation. He loves this, utterly _loves_ it— the way Victor murmurs sweet praises between the breaths that unfurl against Yuuri’s lips, and the way he can be vulnerable and fall apart knowing that Victor’s his safety net, holding him close and dispelling any discomfort from his mind. Yuuri’s heart swells when Victor moans, eyelashes fluttering. Yuuri loves knowing that Victor finds pleasure in him too, whether giving or receiving it.

Heat pools inside Yuuri, begging for the extra push that will send him over the edge. He digs his fingers into Victor’s back, pushing his hips down in counterpoint to meet Victor’s thrusts. Yuuri can’t even rock himself down that far, but the reaction is instantaneous; a groan rumbles from deep in Victor’s chest. His movements stutter before taking Yuuri’s cue and giving it to him faster, lips latching together briefly before Yuuri lolls his head back with his mouth dropped open. 

The tension snaps when Victor reaches in between them to jerk Yuuri’s cock, and Yuuri whines high in his throat. His mind blanks as he clenches down and comes, Victor following soon after, tensing and spilling deep inside with a breathless gasp of Yuuri’s name.

There’s always a little pinch in Victor’s brow just after he comes, and Yuuri reaches up blearily to smooth it away with a soft press. Victor worries about his skin ageing sometimes— Yuuri assures his fiancé he’ll be just as handsome no matter what creams he uses. Yuuri’s sure of it— if Victor can be so _beautiful_ right after coming, it’s practically a given. Victor’s even attractive now, wincing from overstimulation as he pulls out with a slick noise; his hand is gentle as he lets Yuuri’s leg down. Yuuri likes being taken care of, but especially after sex, and he pats Victor’s cheek in appreciation as Victor tugs Yuuri close. Victor presses a kiss into Yuuri’s palm, making him smile, and he leans bonelessly against Victor’s body as their breathing evens out. 

Yuuri is sweaty, but he’s pleasantly warm and his body feels floaty; he exhales contentedly as he drapes his arm over his fiancé’s chest. 

“So,” Victor murmurs, after giving Yuuri a kiss that they both smile into, “Did that fulfill your expectations?”

“Love you.” Yuuri slurs back, bringing the fondest expression to Victor’s face. Yuuri’s heart is steady and calm from unwinding so thoroughly, so the endearment comes easily.

With that thought, Yuuri snuggles closer and sighs, blearily observing Victor’s features closer up before his eyes droop closed. 

Victor thinks a nap sounds perfectly appropriate right now, and he hugs Yuuri, dropping a kiss to the tip of his nose before settling for rest.

This hotel stay is the best idea Victor’s had all year.

 

* * *

 

It’s no surprise when Yuuri wakes up two hours later with a growling stomach, dried sweat on his skin, and— yup, he _definitely_ needs the bathroom. Yuuri likes cuddling after sex, but he doesn’t like waking up to his limpet of a fiancé making him hotter and stickier than he needs to be. Thank god Makkachin is home in St. Petersburg and can’t be added to the mix.

“ _Victor_.” Yuuri grumbles, causing Victor to stir with attempts to wriggle out of his hold. “It’s too _hot_.”

Victor grunts and wakes, grinning lethargically when he sees Yuuri staring back in frustration. “Well, that’s entirely your fault,” Victor says, clinging and not letting go. “You’re the hot one here.”

Yuuri smiles despite himself, but the compliment doesn’t ease his hunger or his bladder. He levels his gaze with Victor’s seriously as he requests, very nicely, that Victor let him go _pee_.

Victor pouts as he releases his fiancé. “Hurry back!” He calls before rolling over.

Shifting restlessly, Victor wonders if he should join Yuuri in the bathroom instead of staying in bed. The towels underneath him are getting irritating with how sweaty he is. 

A glance at the clock on the nightstand shows that it’s nearly three in the afternoon. _How time flies when you’re having fun_ , Victor muses, but with it comes a pang of hunger. He’d been too busy napping to notice, but it’s been a while since they last ate. The room service menu is sitting on the desk in the living area outside, so Victor goes to consult it. 

A full year ago, Victor didn’t really think about his meals— they were all bland and dietitian-approved, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, sometimes. He’d skip lunch at the rink if Yakov wasn’t there to tell him off. The exhaustion after practice always resulted in naps that went well into the evening, when Victor couldn’t be bothered to cook properly. He would, if only to keep his weight up and get something into himself, but his appetite was never great. 

Yuuri, however, _loves_ food— Victor’s known that from day one in Hasetsu, when Yuuri spoke so cheerfully of his mother’s cooking. His cheeks were adorably filled out and he was nowhere near competition physique. It had astounded Victor because he’d forgotten food could be delicious. That first bowl of _katsudon_ opened the door to many more, and sitting down to eat with Yuuri is still one of the best parts of his day, even if it’s skinless chicken breast and plain potatoes on the table.

Once the order is placed, Victor joins Yuuri in the bathroom, where his fiancé is just emerging from the small stall the toilet is in. It’s unfortunate they can’t spend longer in the shower, even if it isn’t the _steamiest_ shower they’ve ever had (in both the figurative and literal sense). It’s still nice to help each other lather up and rinse off, and they’re in robes well before the doorbell rings to signal that their food has arrived.

Yuuri’s eyes widen behind his glasses when one of the silver plate covers is lifted to reveal a _burger with fries._

He’s still staring when Victor returns from seeing the room service attendant out, and Yuuri looks up to find Victor amused across him. The other item Victor had ordered was a salad, so Yuuri assumes they’ll be sharing.

“I thought you’d want one.” Victor says, raising a glass of ice water to his lips. 

Yes, Yuuri wants a _burger_. It’s one of the cravings he gets after a good workout— especially sexy workouts. But in a life faced with lean proteins and complex carbs, there’s not much room for fast food even after exercise.

Somehow, the shock of having fatty red meat and bread in front of him tells him that Victor must have _really_ enjoyed himself earlier.

“This feels like a reward.” Yuuri says, picking up his cutlery to slice the burger in half. “Is this a reward?”

“For being an _amazing_ fiancé?” Victor lilts, pouring some vinaigrette onto a small dish. “Perhaps.” Victor dips his salad into dressing instead of dousing it over, which was weird at first but made more sense once Yuuri tried it. There’s better flavor distribution that way.

“So what you’re saying is… you’re rewarding me because we have good sex.” 

“Just _good?_ Yuuri!” Victor gasps, dramatically dropping the fry he’d just picked up. “I thought it was our _best_ _yet_. I should be rewarding myself, too.”

“Isn’t that why we’re sharing?” Yuuri remarks, lifting half of the burger carefully and sliding it onto Victor’s plate. “Because we’re having _record-breaking_ sex?”

“Record-” Victor raises his eyebrows, picking the dropped fry up and waving it at Yuuri accusingly. ”You know I’ll be working extra hard to reclaim those scores next season.”

Yuuri laughs, and Victor cracks a grin before popping the fry into his mouth. Records are something of an inside joke to them— only _they_ could possibly find making and breaking world records funny. It’s not every day two world class skaters get engaged, after all. 

Deciding to turn his attention to the food before it gets cold, Yuuri takes a big bite of the burger and audibly hums. He’d forgotten off-season could feel so good— or maybe it’s just this way because he has a fiancé who likes to spoil him now. Either way, Victor seems to relish watching Yuuri eat, and so Yuuri does.

“Make no mistake.” Victor begins casually, tilting his head and looking at Yuuri over the food in his hands. “As your coach, I still have to make sure you keep fit in your time off.”

Yuuri almost drops the burger, caught off guard. “O-of course!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Victor grins teasingly, handing Yuuri a napkin to wipe the ketchup from his fingers with. “I think we’ve done enough _exercise_ this morning to justify some junk.”

In response, Yuuri takes a too-big bite off his burger, nearly choking when Victor’s giggling proves infectious. Grimacing as he swallows hard, Yuuri crinkles his nose and sips at his drink with a smile so wide his cheeks ache. Victor is _ridiculous_.

As if to prove the point further not even minutes later, Victor’s recoiling from the glass of water at his mouth with a splutter, a trickle of icy water making its way down his neck and into his robe. Yuuri _has_ to put his food down for that, wheezing as he watches Victor glare at the cup. 

“That was _cold.”_ Victor grumbles, patting the terry cloth of his robe down to soak up the runaway liquid.

“Well, you _did_ ask for ice water.” Yuuri remarks. He eyes the offending glass, snorting amusedly when Victor sets it as far away from himself as possible on the cluttered table. It’s set down close to Yuuri, and an idea emerges in his mind. He picks up his own water, peering down into it and noting that the ice cubes are still mostly intact. “Hey, Victor?”

When his fiancé answers with a curious hum, Yuuri rests the glass on the table and looks up at Victor past his glasses. “How would you feel about trying something new?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were approximately 800 words of rimming in this chapter (a new personal best)! I hope it was satisfying :)
> 
> Next time: Some temperature play!

**Author's Note:**

> **Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading :)**
> 
>   **Hit me up on[tumblr](http://blushunder.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/blushunder)!**  
> 
> 
>  


End file.
